


all i ever knew

by finkpishnets



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: College, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are my very favorite person,” Farkle says, and when Riley smiles it’s because they both know it’s the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i ever knew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galfridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfridian/gifts).



> Hi there, dear recipient! I apologise in advance for not including the other ships you mentioned, but minor plot points kind of got away from me. Either way, I hope you like this little look into a possible development of Riley and Farkle's relationship ♥︎

 

**+**

 

Riley meets Farkle outside his Monday morning Chem lab with a tall black coffee and a homemade cupcake that’s slightly lopsided and covered in the brightest purple icing he’s ever seen. She’s wearing a dress covered in tiny paw prints and humming along to the music drifting over from the quad, and she’s the kind of pretty that makes his classmates stop and knock elbows as they let their gaze linger. Farkle rolls his eyes and leaves them to their gawping.

“Hi, Riles,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. They’re still almost the same height, and there’s something comforting about it that Farkle knows rings back to his childhood codependency issues and still loves anyway.

“Hi!” Riley says. “I bought treats.”

“You are my very favorite person,” Farkle says, and when Riley smiles it’s because they both know it’s the truth.

Riley takes his arm as they head towards the library and their weekly study date, telling him all about her Physical Theater elective and her roommate’s mom’s new puppy and the Bell Hooks book she’s reading for her Women’s Studies paper, and Farkle lets the stresses of his week drain from his shoulders.

He hadn’t intentionally applied to the same colleges as Riley; if he’d done that, it would have been Lucas he’d have followed, compromising a little on academic status for the safety of staying under the wing of his best friend, and he’s glad he didn’t. He still wishes he could see Lucas more outside of their bi-weekly video chats and holidays back in the heart of the city, but his thirst for education has always driven him as much as his friends have.

Riley and he making the same choice was a coincidence of the happiest kind, and Farkle’s been thankful for it every day since.

“We’re performing Beckett’s _Endgame_ next week,” Riley says, jumping back through conversations, and Farkle follows her with practiced ease. “Will you come?”

“Of course I will,” he says, and wonders if it’s too much to fill her dressing room with daisies.

“You’re my second favorite person,” Riley says, grinning from ear to ear, and Farkle squeezes her hand and takes it for the amazing compliment it is.

 

**+**

 

“Do you remember how you always wanted to take over the world?” Riley says, leaning over the table at Marco’s where they’re enjoying free sodas and way too many toppings because Marco, like the rest of the world, loves Riley, who babysits his kids whenever Marco and his wife go upstate to visit their parents.

“Sure,” Farkle says. “That was a great sixteen years of my life.”

“Why’d you stop?” Riley asks, propping her chin in her hand and reaching for her drink.

Farkle shrugs. “I guess I just realized that _my_ world was enough.”

“Aww,” Riley says, kicking gently at his ankle. “ _We_ were your world.”

Farkle laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.”

Riley sighs, pushing her plate away with the frown she always gets when she’s full and sad about it. “I like our world, too,” she says, “though I regret that there isn’t more pizza in my tummy right now.”

“No civilization’s perfect,” Farkle agrees, and grabs another slice just to see Riley pout.

 

**+**

 

“Where are you getting your info from, dude?” Lucas says, and Farkle bites the inside of his cheek at his offended scowl.

“Tumblr,” he says, and the little choking noise Lucas makes sends Farkle over the edge until he’s laughing hard enough to clutch his stomach.

“You’re such a dick,” Lucas says, but he’s laughing too, dropping his attempts at football talk and reaching for the glass of juice somewhere off the side of the screen.

It’s not that Farkle _minds_ talking about sports with Lucas; Lucas loves all that stuff, and Farkle’s picked up on enough to be able to hold up his end of a conversation. It’s more that Lucas’ scholarship means his whole life revolves around football and sometimes it takes a while for him to shake it off and remember that the world revolves around more than just touchdowns and plays.

“So,” Farkle says, when Lucas slumps back against his pillows, “added any new members to the Lucas Friar Fan Club yet this week?”

Lucas flushes, and Farkle has to lean closer to the screen to double check he’s not imagining it because Lucas stopped being embarrassed about being asked out about two weeks into his freshman year. 

“Uh,” Lucas says.

“Holy smokes,” Farkle says, “how special _is_ this girl?”

“Um,” Lucas says, and Farkle practically presses his nose to his laptop.

“Friar,” he says, “spill.”

“It might, maybe, sorta be a guy?” Lucas says. Farkle blinks at him

“Oh my god,” he says, when he finds his voice. “Oh my _god_. Does Maya know? This is _hilarious._ ”

“ _Hey_ ,” Lucas says, and Farkle waves him off.

“You know what I mean,” he says. “Do we need to talk about this?”

Lucas shrugs. “Nah,” he says. “Not yet. Probably after the date.” 

“Okay,” Farkle says. “Anytime, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Lucas says, and when he smiles Farkle suddenly realizes he hasn’t seen him this relaxed all year.

“Good,” Farkle says, and misses him more than ever.

 

**+**

 

“Lucas called,” Riley says, already in her pyjamas and carrying an overnight bag. Farkle’s roommate smokes too much weed and crashes with friends more often than not, which is great for the nights Farkle and Riley want to stay up drinking hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and eating Riley’s frequently epic stash of candy. 

“Ah,” Farkle says. “Everyone else know, too?”

“Smackle sent him an LGBTQIA movie bouquet.”

Farkle laughs and makes a mental note to send Smackle the proofread of a new Bioengineering paper he just received.

“Maya’s going up to see him next weekend,” Riley says. “It’ll be good for them to talk.”

“How’re things going with Maya and Jess?” Farkle asks and Riley smiles, bright and happy.

“Great,” she says. “Jess is really good for her. I like her.”

Farkle’s always loved how Maya and Riley live for each other’s happiness. Their pain and their anger and their joy are intertwined in a way that would be unhealthy for anyone else and is nothing short of beautiful when it’s them.

He grabs the blankets from the end of his bed and he and Riley build a makeshift fort to huddle under.

“I think our friends might be really happy,” Riley says when they’re comfortable, resting her head on Farkle’s shoulder and blowing on the hot chocolate in the purple kitty mug she made the last time they went pottery painting and Farkle keeps at the back of the kitchenette cupboard so his roommate never uses it.

“It’s pretty great, right?” he says, and Riley presses her smile into his neck.

“Yes,” she said, words muffled. “It is.”

 

**+**

 

Farkle doesn’t date.

It’s not a conscious thing, he just doesn’t particularly have time between his studies and the social life he makes an effort to keep up with. He goes out, meets people, has fun, but he doesn’t date. It’s also not because he doesn’t get asked, thanks _Zay_.

So, it’s not a big deal.

Except that it kind of is.

He’s loved Riley practically his whole life, and when he was fourteen he realized that loving someone and being in love with them were two different things. He loved her so much but he wasn’t in love with her, not the way he fell in love with Smackle, not the way puberty and teenage drama led him to.

He’s loved Riley his whole life, but he fell _in_ love with her when he was eighteen years old and their orbits drew them together on a college campus.

So he doesn’t date, and it’s not because he has any expectations, it’s just because right now his heart is too full for anyone else.

 

**+**

 

People have been mistaking them for a couple since their freshman year, and eventually they stopped even bothering to deny it.

They’d make it a game, throwing the worst kinds of pet names at each other and snuggling close until whoever brought it up wandered away with a faintly disturbed expression and Riley and Farkle’s laughter ringing in their ears. Later it because simpler things — holding hands in a bar when guys stood too close to Riley and made her feel uncomfortable, Riley wrapping arms around Farkle’s waist when the older woman that worked at the coffee shop off campus wouldn’t stop leaving her number on his coffee.

Now it’s more habit than anything, and Farkle won’t pretend he doesn’t love the feeling of Riley’s fingers tangled in his and her smile shining when she looks at him, but he doesn’t want to step over boundaries if Riley’s into someone.

Like the guy who slid into the booth opposite them and is talking to Riley about some Ethics class they’re both in.

“Uh,” Farkle says, “I was gonna head out…”

“Oh,” Riley says, dropping the conversation and turning her attention back to Farkle, “I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Farkle says, because he doesn’t want her to feel guilty if she wants to keep hanging out.

“No,” she says, “I want to. Hey, we should catch a movie!”

“Sure,” Farkle says, and tries to read too much into it. The guy across from them looks vaguely dejected and stands, offering Riley a wave, and Riley waves back but doesn’t look too sad that he’s gone.

“Come on,” she says. “If we get there early enough we can get froyo.”

“Sounds perfect,” Farkle says, and means it.

 

**+**

 

On Thursday, Zay sends him fifteen memes in a row and a string of kissy face emojis, and Farkle repays him with an influx of code that’ll make Rick Astley appear anytime he clicks on the app store or his calendar.

On Friday, Riley takes the phone from him where Zay’s begging him to _“fix things, Minkus, why do you hate me? Why do you hate_ joy? _Please, for the love of God…”_ and talks him down until they’re dancing along to Never Gonna Give You Up on speakerphone and planning a Spring Break camping trip. 

Riley is the closest thing to an angel Farkle’s ever believed in.

“That was mean,” she says when they hang up, but she’s laughing, flushed and happy, and Farkle can’t help but reach out to brush her hair out of her face. Riley blinks up at him, but she’s still smiling, cheeks pink and eyes glittering, and Farkle thinks, _’Oh’_ and _’maybe…’_

“I like you a lot, Farkle Minkus,” Riley says, and Farkle’s heart stutters in his chest.

“I like _you_ a lot, Riley Matthews,” he says, and Riley’s happy sigh is the best sound he’s heard all year.

 

**+**

 

He almost misses the blonde girl sat outside his door, leather boots kicked forward so if passers by accidentally trip up, then, _hey_ , that’s not her problem.

Farkle laughs and gives her his hand, and doesn’t resist when she pulls him down.

“So,” Maya says, and Farkle leans as close as he dares, sure his eyes are glittering with the kind of mischief only this powerhouse of a girl can ever produce in him.

“ _So_ ,” Farkle says.

Maya never lets him know when she’s coming, though he’s sure she and Riley can probably telepathically communicate by now, but he never asks, not when it means she comes whirling in, attitude and wit and the most passionate form of friendship he’s ever known. Art school’s given her structure and imagination and a love for what she does that’s bred from being surrounded by it at all times, and Farkle would tell her how proud of her he is if he didn’t think she’d punch him in the face.

“ _So_ , you’re in love with Riley,” Maya says, and, oh. _That_. He’s not sure how she knows, but he knows better than to ask.

“Is this the ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you’ talk?” he says, like he doesn’t already know that Maya would bury anyone that ever made Riley cry.

Maya watches it for a few minutes.

“No,” she says eventually. “No, you’ve always loved her almost as much as I do.”

It’s the most ringing endorsement anyone’s ever given him.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ve just added another layer.”

“You’re alright, Minkus,” Maya says, and he pulls her close and refuses to let go until his roommate trips over their legs.

 

**+**

 

Riley and Maya hole up for the weekend, and Farkle Skypes Lucas and Smackle and holds a text conversation with Zay entirely in hip hop lyrics, and doesn’t even think about interrupting them.

On Monday morning, Riley’s waiting outside his Chem lab with a tall black coffee and a cookie with white frosting and a misshapen heart in icing that looks more orange than pink.

“Hi,” he says, and ignores his classmates lingering to stare at Riley with hearts in their eyes. 

“Hi,” she says, and doesn’t stop for breath before adding: “I think we should go on a date. A _date_ date, not a study date or a friend date or a nostalgic date. There should be flowers and food and probably kisses.”

“Oh,” Farkle says, and thinks about this incredible girl who’s one of his best friends and the person he wants to spend time with more than anyone else in the world. “Okay. Yes. Definitely.”

“Definitely,” Riley says, and her laugh is like the sun and the stars and every beautiful thing Farkle’s ever seen.

 

**+**

 

Farkle spends the rest of the day freaking out about when and where and what, but then Riley finds him first, grabbing his hand as he leaves his last class and running for the exit, and Farkle’s breathless as he lets himself be led to the quad.

“Wow,” he says, blinking down at the blanket and the basket and the strings of fairy lights it’s still too bright out to really see, and hardly notices the other students staring as they wander by.

“A picnic!” Riley says excitedly. “The weather’s still nice and we’ve never _done_ this before, so…”

“It’s perfect,” Farkle says.

Riley beams up at him, and Farkle sits and takes a paper plate from her. He knows he’s smiling too much but he can’t help it and he doesn’t care.

Riley thumbs through her phone until a playlist starts up and still seems surprised when the first song is one of her favorites, and Farkle loves her, loves her, _loves her._

“So,” he says, opening the basket and peering inside to stop himself blurting out the abundance of feelings that aren’t new but aren’t tested yet, either. “What’s first?”

He looks up just in time to see Riley kneel forward, and there’s a hesitant moment before she closes the remaining distance between them and—

This isn’t their first kiss but it also _is_ , and Farkle thinks it might be everything he ever thought it would be and nothing like it at all. Something new and incredible and terrifying.

“Hi,” Riley says when she pulls away, hovering just out of reach, and Farkle sways forward, finally understanding why people socialize the term magnetic attraction. 

“Hi,” he says, and Riley leans in and pecks him once more, chaste and sweet and everything.

“I really do like you a lot, Farkle Minkus,” she says, sitting back and pushing her hair behind her ear, and it sounds like so much more.

“I really do like _you_ a lot, Riley Matthews,” Farkle says, and sees in her smile that she hears it too.


End file.
